


who we might have been

by desastrista



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Master/Slave, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desastrista/pseuds/desastrista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patras sends delegates to the wedding of Damianos and Laurent. Erasmus and Kallias talk for the first time since that fateful kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who we might have been

**Author's Note:**

> I originally bought a copy of Captive Prince that did not have "The Training of Erasmus". I wrote most of this fic before reading the story, having gleaned much of the plot related information from various Tumblr posts. But I finally got it today (thank you to the kind soul who sent me a copy) and I was so overcome by emotion I polished up this fic and am publishing it now.

They had just passed back into Patras, returning from Vere, when they stopped at a castle not too far from the border. The master of the castle presented Torveld with a pick of slaves, for him to enjoy their First Night. 

It was the custom. It was normal. 

It did not stop this wild jealousy from flowing through Erasmus's veins. He knew the reaction was indecent, unbecoming of a slave. But he could not stop it. 

He heard the blood pounding in his ears as Torveld politely declined. He had his favorite, his master said as way of explanation, and would not be served by any other. It was an acceptably polite, if somewhat unconventional, answer. 

That night, Erasmus served Torveld faithfully during dinner and tried to understand why his jealousy had not been sated. 

 

They were alone in the bedroom and about to go to sleep when Torveld asked him the question. 

“You never had a First Night, did you?” 

Torveld asked it as if he has just thought about it for the first time. Erasmus felt his throat constrict. 

“No,” he said. 

A First Night is supposed to be the most important night of a slave’s life. Erasmus had dreamt of his since they’d first told him he was destined for Prince Damianos. 

The first time a man laid with Erasmus, he'd been dragged out of a cage and raped in front of the rest of the Palace slaves. The sailor who had done it had thrown him a bit of extra bread, as if a reward. It was an insult. Erasmus had been hungry enough to eat it anyway.

He had been looking down at the covers, lost in thought as he relived the memory. He was only interrupted by a hand on his chin. Torveld lifted his head up and gave him a quick kiss. 

“We could pretend this was your first night,” he said, his voice mischievous. “That would be your first kiss.” 

Erasmus let out a huff of laughter. He was many nights from his first night, even with Torveld. “I had my first kiss in the Palace at Akielos,” he said, half musing. 

“Really?” Torveld had lifted an eyebrow in surprise. But of course Torveld would not have known. He had heard Erasmus's story from the slave Damen, and Erasmus had not told Damen everything.

So Erasmus told Torveld about the last time he he had seen Kallias. 

 

When he was done, Torveld frowned. “That boy saved your life,” he said. Erasmus, who had been looking down once again, jerked his head up. “You hadn't heard?” Torveld continued. “Prince Damianos was killed. They said his guards were responsible. All of his slaves were executed.” 

It was Erasmus who frowned at that. 

“That's not possible. The Prince’s guards would never do such a thing.” 

A contemplative look passed over Torveld's face. “I suspect you are right,” he said, half to himself. He gave a sigh, “There are certainly strange happenings in Akielos these days. Whatever really happened, you are lucky not to be there.” 

Agreement was in Erasmus's nature. But his mind dwelt on what he had endured in Vere and he did not respond. 

Torveld must have known what he was thinking about, because he continued, “I know it might be difficult to believe, but even Vere was likely safer for you.” He leaned forward, kissing Erasmus once again. It was a nice kiss, soft and gentle. Everything a kiss should be. 

Much better than his first kiss, Erasmus couldn't help thinking to himself. 

 

“You'll have your chance to go back to Akielos. You'll see the Palace again,” Torveld said when he told Erasmus that they were to attend the wedding of Damianos and Laurent. 

It had been months, and by now Erasmus considered Patras his home. But, he found himself thinking, it would be nice to go back to Akielos. He smiled. And to feel the cool marble of the Palace halls again – 

“You might be able to see your friend,” Torveld added. “Kallias was the name, right?” 

Erasmus's smile froze.

_He saved your life_ , he remembered Torveld saying. 

By now, he had heard of the sordid affair with Kastor and the Regent plotting to kill the King and send Prince Damianos as a slave to Vere. He knew that if he had been wearing the lion pin that day, he would have been killed. 

But there was a certain unreality to those thoughts. They were stories, told to him by Torveld, who heard from his brother, who heard from Damianos. They were stories of what might have been. 

The repeated rapes at Vere. Those Erasmus actually endured. The burns on the back of his thighs. Those were real. 

“It will be nice to see Akielos again,” he replied demurely. Torveld gave him a long look, but did not say anything. 

 

The voyage to the Palace took a few weeks. It was breathtaking to see the Palace from the Ocean for the first time. Its white walls were splendid in the sun. 

It felt like a very long time and none at all since he had last been in the Palace. 

He had thought he would grow old there. 

He tried to banish these thoughts. At the end of the voyage, the Patran retinue was taken before the new Kings, Laurent and Damianos. Erasmus bowed deeply before them. It was strange to see Damianos in person again. The first time, Erasmus had spoken to him as a slave. The second time, he was a general. Now he was a king. It seemed such a strange ascendency to Erasmus. He expected to barely recognize Damianos. But he did not look so different after all. He supposed that Damen had always been a King, just hiding it. It was Laurent who seemed the more changed. He seemed happier, freer somehow. Erasmus knew his opinion on Laurent doesn't matter, but he was happy. Laurent had been kind to him, and deserved happiness.

Torveld said they had some matter to discuss, and dismissed Erasmus. Before he could leave, however, Torveld stayed him with a hand on his shoulder. He whispered to Erasmus, “You should find him.” 

Erasmus flushed at the words. It wasn’t quite a command. Erasmus didn’t have to obey. He was pretty sure that Torveld knew this, and that was why he chose that phrasing. 

So that it would still be Erasmus’s choice. 

 

It took him a long time, but he still found Kallias. 

It was not too far from the kitchens. Kallias had turned a corner, and Erasmus saw him ahead. He stopped dead in his tracks. Kallias took a little longer to spot him, but when he did, it looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“Erasmus?” Kallias asked. He started to walk towards Erasmus. 

Erasmus had taken the step back before he even realized what he was doing. 

Kallias slowed down, but he kept walking towards Erasmus. Erasmus thought he saw a pained look on Kallias’s face, but it passed so quickly Erasmus might have imagined it. 

“It is you, isn't it?” 

Erasmus swallowed heavily. He gave a small nod. 

Kallias had almost reached him. He gave a long, disbelieving stare and then stepped forward to envelop Erasmus in a hug. Erasmus put his arms around Kallias. He could hardly believe it was really him. 

“I was worried about you,” Kallias said, as he broke away. “I wasn't sure if I would ever see you again --” 

“Yes. I live in Patras now. My master is the Prince Torveld.” 

He said it too stiffly, too formally. Kallias looked him up and down. There was no missing how Kallias's eyes lingered over his gold cuffs and collar. Kallias's wrists and neck were unadorned. 

“I have heard that there is no more slavery in Akielos,” Erasmus said. “You must have quite the story to tell.” 

“From the sound of it, you have been to three kingdoms this year. I'm sure you have more stories than I do.” 

 

They found a nice shady tree to sit under and exchange stories. Kallias went first. There was something refreshing about being here again, about hearing his voice. It took Erasmus back to the last summer they shared together. The last summer before the world fell apart. 

But there was no way to miss the fact that Kallias's story was light on details. He was a bed slave for Kastor. He would only describe it as “difficult”, and Erasmus knew enough about what it was like to tell these kinds of stories to guess at the dark depth contained in that word: he rested his arm against Kallias’s almost instinctually. But, Kallias continued, Damianos came to power and let Kallias live. Even better, he said with a smile, he set him free. He'd been working to help the rest of the household adjust to this change. It was not easy, but things were getting better. 

And what, Kallias wanted to know, had happened to Erasmus? 

“I was taken on a boat to Vere,” he began, and had to stop. His mouth felt like chalk. 

What to tell Kallias? 

About the rape, the beatings, the abuse, the neglect?

About the fact that, as it was happening, he couldn’t help but ask himself why Kallias had done this to him? 

The pause goes on too long. “I've heard some of your story from the King. Damianos,” Kallias finally volunteered. “He said that there was – abuse.” 

Erasmus just nodded. Some part of him was relieved not to tell the story again. His shoulders slumped. 

“Erasmus, I –,” Kallias began. He was looking at Erasmus and there was a terrifying sincerity in his wide blue eyes. Erasmus could not meet his gaze. “What I did, I did to protect you. I heard Kastor's plans for Damianos, I knew that you could be involved, I had to do something.” 

“I know.” 

“And I had no idea – I thought things would be better for you in Vere, I really did, Erasmus.” 

“I know.” 

Kallias let out a breath and Erasmus wasn’t sure if it was amused or annoyed. “Then why do I feel like you haven't forgiven me?” he asked. 

“I – it's not like that, Kallias. By the time I found out what you did – why you did what you did – I was already in Patras. But for months in Vere, all I could think to myself was: _this is because of Kallias._ I had no idea. I thought you must have hated me, that I must have done something to make you hate me, because that's the only reason I could think of for why you would do that to me. And it's – hard, getting rid of the memory of that.” 

Kallias didn’t say anything in response. The silence between them lingered. Erasmus tried desperately to think of something to say to make the situation better. 

“Is he nice?” Kallias asked, before he could think of anything. Erasmus's head jerked up. “Your Prince,” Kallias clarified. 

Erasmus felt the tips of his cheeks burning. “Yes,” he said, looking down at the ground again. He didn't mean to, but he found himself smiling. “He's a good man.” 

“And he treats you well?” 

“Yes.” 

“Better than Prince Damianos would have?” 

Erasmus gave an amused snort. “I have no idea, but I think so, yes. He's – considerate.” 

“But you're still a slave.” 

Erasmus just nodded at that. “I'm not sure I know how to be anything else, at this point.” 

It took him a bit by surprise when Kallias laughed in response. “I've heard that from people at the Palace here. It's not that hard. Trust me.”

Erasmus looked at Kallias, really looked at him for the first time. Kallias had always carried himself with a kind of confidence that naturally shy Erasmus lacked. It was still there. But it had been changed somehow. He seemed more resolute. More self-assured. Erasmus wondered if it was Kastor or freedom or both that had changed him. Erasmus had to smile. Of course, Erasmus had changed too. 

They kept talking, long after they should have. It was dark before Erasmus said he should go. 

But before he left, he leaned over to kiss Kallias. 

This time it was a gentle kiss and it was on the lips. 

 

Kallias was told the next morning that Torveld of Patras wanted to meet him. He made his way to where he knew the Patran delegate was staying. Torveld was waiting for him, reclining easily in a chair. He was alone. 

Even a free man bows to a Prince. Kallias stood tall. 

If the Prince noticed, he gave no sign, but gestured for Kallias to take the seat across from him. 

“I heard that you called for me,” Kallias began. He looked around. “Where is Erasmus?” 

“He went for a walk. I told him I wanted to talk to you privately, first.” 

Kallias did not stop staring at the Prince. “What did you want to talk to me about?” 

“I've talked to Damianos and Laurent. They speak quite highly of you. They're very reluctant to let you go from their retinue but, of course, as a free man you're allowed to leave their service whenever you choose.” 

Kallias's brows furrowed. “Why would I do that?” He owed much to Laurent and Damianos. He could not imaging serving anyone else, although he knew that was now an option for him. 

“When we return from this wedding, my brother will announce the end of slavery in Patras.” Torveld spoke slowly, as if the words weighted on him, “People will say he's seen the light. Perhaps seeing a King who used to be a slave ascend to the Throne changed his ways. Others might point out that Patras does not have the resources to continue as the only slave nation on this continent.” The Prince paused, and looked at Kallias. “I don't think it will be easy. From what I’ve heard, it does not sound like it was easy in Akielos. But I've heard that you helped.” 

“And you want me to help?” 

Torveld nodded. 

Kallias paused. A sudden, wild thought occurred to him. His heart beat very loudly. He wondered if this Prince could hear it. 

“So Erasmus would be free?” he asked. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Erasmus, free. Himself, there with him in Patras. He thought about the night before his First Night. _I wish you could have been my first._

This hope of his seemed so fragile, he could not even think about saying it outright – 

Torveld nodded again. “Of course. I'm going to free him early. A show of solidarity with my brother.” 

“What do you think he'll do? With freedom.” 

It was Torveld's turn to look contemplative. “I planned to offer him a position as a servant. It's up to him if he wants to take it or not.” 

Kallias gave Torveld another appraising gaze. He seemed unbothered. He did look out the window, and some part of Kallias knew that he was gazing in the direction that Erasmus had gone out walking. 

He thought of the way that Erasmus talked about Torveld. The blush. The smile. He was clearly smitten.

_He is a good man_ , Erasmus had said. 

The last master of Kallias’s had not been a good man. He had forced Kallias to do things, to Erasmus and otherwise, that he would regret for a long time. But it was because of Kastor that Kallias had embraced being free. 

Kallias wondered if a kind master had, in the end, been a good or a bad thing for Erasmus. 

“I'll do it,” he replied.


End file.
